CHAPTER 60
I nearly ruined everything, and now I can’t face her.
I am too scared to even go near them, so instead I go to the stables to finish the cradle Dragus had started.
Putting another coat of lacquer on it, by the time the sun is up, I am finished just as Peter walks in to tend to the horses.
Peter notices me and walks over to see what I am doing.
“Congrats daddio,” he says, smacking my back.
“Thanks,” I tell him though I don’t know much else to say when I can’t even be in the same room as them.
“What’s up?” he asks.
“Nothing, can you grab the other end so we can put it out in the sun to kill the fumes?” Peter nods, walking to the other end and carefully grabbing.
I could have carried it but I am worried I would break it if I just picked it up.
Dragus has really done a good job on it, it looks amazing, the little mobile is the perfect little touch.
I know Elora will love it, I just hope she likes what I did with the ruins that were nearly finished.
Though the ruins aren’t just for her, but to represent what I hope the future holds.
Placing it on the tarp out front of the stable door in the sun we set it down so it can dry and air out.
“I saw the ruins the other day, Dakari showed me. Looks great but where are you going to put it? It’s huge?” he asks.
“Where the water fountain is, have to smash it and remove it if you want to help,” I tell him, his face lighting up.
“Yes I have always wanted to break that ugly fountain,” he says, making me chuckle.
“It’s not that ugly,” I tell him, and he scoffs.
“What fountain has gargoyles watching everyone with their beady eyes. It was once pretty, but it’s now decrepit looking.”
“Fair enough,” I tell him, it is ugly.
“You are all good with your hands, the detail is unbelievable,’’ he says, holding the little Dragon figurine gently between his fingers.
“Yeah, well back when I was younger besides kicking stones the only thing to do was whittle,” I tell him.
“Yeah, must suck being as old as dirt,” he replies.
“I’m not that god damn old,” I tell him roughing his hair.
“No, just old enough where you played with rocks and sticks like it was prime entertainment,” he says with a laugh. I like Peter, he’s a good kid. And his father should be proud of the young man he is turning into.
“How is your family?” I ask him.
“Good. Grandma is sick with the flu. I actually need to see Victor if that’s alright later.”
“I actually just saw him; we can go see him now if you want. Cough medicine?” I ask him, and he nods.
“Yeah and antibiotics if he has any. My grandmother was helping mom in the garden. She cut her leg up on some steel. I think it’s infected,” he says.
“Come then we can go see Victor and take the stuff to her,” I tell him.
“No, I can do it later. The walk back home will take forty minutes,” he says.
“Not if we fly,” I tell him, and he suddenly stops. “What you aren’t scared of heights, now are you, Peter?”
“No, more worried you will eat me,” he says
“No, you’re too scrawny, not enough meat on your bones, need to fatten you up before I do that.”
“Should I be worried about all that candy you keep sending me home with?” he wonders as I drape my arm across his shoulder, forcing him to walk to the green houses.
Victor is busily compounding medication when we walk in, no matter how old he gets and how cold it gets he always shows, his dedication to the people and the apprentices he is teaching is admirable.
“Hey Silas, Peter,” he says, acknowledging us as we walk in.
“What can I do for you?”
“Peter needs antibiotics and flu medicine if you have any,”
“Yes, I have both, but what’s the antibiotics for?”
“Grandma cut her leg open, and we think it’s infected.”
“Geez, how did Lucy do that?” he asks, rummaging around in his drawers.
“In the garden” Peter tells him.
“How long ago?”
“Couple of weeks ago, it won’t heal, and the leg is turning black,” Peter says, and Victor drops the bottle in his hands looking at me. Yeah, that wasn’t a good sign.
“Peter, if the infection got that bad, antibiotics may not even help her,” Victor tells him gently.
“But she will be alright though?” Peter asks and Victor looks at me.
“I’m sure she will be fine,” he says, though it was obvious he thought it was going to kill the old woman.
Peter takes the medicine, oblivious to what Victor was trying to tell him. I didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise. “Can you check on my son and Elora later please?” I ask
“He has been born? I thought I heard the sound of a baby crying, how exciting. Of course, I will head up straight away.”
“Thank you,” I tell him.
“You know I watched that girl grow up, I was neighbours with her grandmother, loved that woman, stubborn though. I guess that’s where Elora gets that strong will of hers from.
I can’t believe I lived long enough to see her have her own child.
” Victor beams, unable to hide his excitement. I smile, his excitement is contagious.
When Peter tries to walk back toward the castle, I grab his shoulder.
“Ah ah, nope I will walk,” he says.
“Here hold these,” I tell him as I start stripping off my clothes. Peter looks anywhere but at me.
“What, I can’t walk up to your house naked?”
“I don’t think mom would mind but you might give my grandmother a heart attack,” he says, laughing.
I shift and Peter covers his ears, not liking the sound before turning around to look, taking a slight step back.
“Nope I am good,” he says, making me laugh, my chest rumbling. I step forward towards him and he bolts.
“Hell no,” he says, his little legs taking off through the field while I chase him, scooping him up, he squeals like a little girl high pitched making me laugh as I clutch him in my talon.
“Chicken,” I tell him.
“Wait how did you do that?” he asks when my voice flits through his head as I climb higher.
“Mind control, I could probably make you quack like a duck if I wanted,” I tell him. I could feel his entire body shaking in my claws where I have him caged.
“Wow that’s so high,” he says, his voice trembling.
“Don’t you drop me, I may just soil myself,” he says, my chest rumbling with laughter.
“The green roof,” he says pointing below as we fly over the city.
I find somewhere to land, plopping him on the grass in the park I saw before landing. I shift back, startling a few people as they avert their gaze.
“Is that the Dragon King?” I hear their soft murmurs.
“Oh no he is going to eat the boy!” I hear another say, making me laugh as I slip my pants on that Peter is clutching so tightly in his frozen hand.
“Come on, let’s go see your family,” I tell him, and he nods.
“Just a bit of warning my grandma can be a little rude, she is not too fond of Dragons,” he admits.
“I am sure I can handle the old bat,” I tell him, and he laughs leading the way to his house. The house is weathered and the tiles on the roof have been broken. The porch steps creak under my feet as we step on it.
Peter lets himself in, and I see a woman rush down the hall to see who it is.
She has dark hair, unlike Peter’s, so I guess he gets the blonde curls from his father.
He had her blue eyes though. She stops, freezing completely on the spot when I walk in behind him.
The room behind her is clean, but run down.
The doors aren’t sealed properly, letting in a cold draft waft through the place.
“Hi ma,” Peter says, stopping. “This is Silas,” he tells her.
“Hi,” I tell her wondering what her name is and Peter finally realising that speaks.
“Oh yes, Silas this is Wendy, my mother, sorry I am used to calling her mom not her name.”
I chuckle, holding my hand out to her. She hesitantly takes mine, squeezing gently.
“Is something wrong, did we do something?” she asks nervously.
“No, I was just giving him a lift home and to check on your mother,” I tell her.
“A lift?” she says, furrowing her eyebrows.
“We flew here, damn near crapped my pants,” Peter says, grabbing my arm and leading me into a kitchen which is run down and missing half the cupboard doors.
His mother follows us frantically over to a woman sitting at the table with white hair.
She looks to be in her sixties, her lips pursed as we walk in and her brown eyes watching us.
“Hey grandma, this is Silas,” he tells her, pecking her cheek.
“I know who he is, son, why is he here?”
“Nice to meet you Lucy,” I tell her, and she seems taken aback.
“He brought Peter home,” her daughter tells her.
“Gosh you’re a big brute,” she says, looking up at me. Peter pulls her dress up, revealing her leg.
She smacks his hand. “Don’t be undressing me boy,” she snaps at him, swatting his hands.
“I am just looking, I brought antibiotics,” he tells her.
“I don’t need any of that Witch voodoo, just gotta piss on it. You young ones need to toughen up,” she tells him. Her leg looks like gangrene; he was definitely right about it being infected.
“Not sure which old wives tales you’ve been reading but that definitely needs more than piss,” I tell her, shaking my head at her logic.
“Young ones have no idea what they are talking about,” she mutters again.
“Grandma, he is older than you,” Peter deadpans. She huffs, annoyed though she allows him to clean it.
Wendy rummages around, grabbing the flu medicine and a glass to make juice.
“Those antibiotics won’t work,” I tell them, looking at her leg as Peter tries to clean it. I look away toward her daughter who seems to know that already. She smiles sadly.
“Will she be alright?” Peter says, looking at me. I say nothing. Instead, going over to his mother. I grab a knife from the draw.
“Wait you are not cutting off her leg,” Peter squeaks.
“You come near me with that knife I will shove it up your ass”, His grandma snaps at me.
“I can help,” I tell her.
“I don’t need help from you!”
“Your leg says otherwise,” I say.
“Nope I am fine, you can go now.”
“Please help her,” Peter asks, and she smacks him up the back of the head.
“Be quiet boy,” she tells him, venom in her voice. Wendy squeezes another orange into the glass, and I turn around, my back to Peter. Reaching for the glass I take it from her. I slice my hand and Wendy looks at me.
“She won’t drink your blood,” she says looking at my hand in horror.
“She will if she doesn’t know,” I whisper as I see her look over her shoulder at her mother.
I let my blood drip into the glass, and the juice darkens slightly.
I rinse my hand sliding the glass back to her.
I point to the oranges, and she squeezes more into the glass.
I turn, facing Lucy who has a scowl on her face as Peter fusses over her leg.
“The pills?” Wendy asks her son, and he grabs them from his pocket. Wendy reads the label while taking two out and handing them to her mother along with the juice.
“I don’t need them.”
“Grandma, Victor made them, not Abbie”
“She has a thing against Witches?” I ask. Peter shakes his head.
“No, just Jackie, Abbie’s mom, old grudge,” he says with an eye roll.
“That old wench stole my first husband!” Lucy snaps, “I don’t want nothing from her devil spawn.” I chuckle at her words, shaking my head.
Wendy and I hold our breath as she tips the glass to her lips, popping the pills in her mouth. She drinks the juice, making a face.
“Something wrong with those oranges, foul-tasting,” she says. Peter gasps at her words, looking at me in indignation.
“What is it, boy?” she says. She looks down noticing her leg.
“You! What did you do?” she says, her eyes snapping to me as she points her wrinkly finger at me.
“Dragon voodoo,” I tell her, and she presses her lips in a line.
“See all better, you should say thank you,” Wendy tells her and her mother glares at her.
“Thank you,” says Wendy, turning to me when her mother stands up grabbing her walking stick only she realizes she doesn’t need it. Instead, she brandishes it like a weapon.
“You old dinosaur,” she says.
“Dragon,” I tell her with a chuckle as she advances toward me. Peter grabs my hand, pulling me from the room as his grandmother follows quite quickly for an old duck brandishing her weapon like it’s a sword.
“Quick she will actually do what she says, you want that up your ass?” Peter says, and I chuckle, he is truly scared of the old bat. I follow him out the door while Wendy tries to calm her mother and cops a whack with the walking stick.
“Mom,” I hear her sing out as we flee out the door.
We walk back to the castle.
“Thank you for helping her. She can be mean, but she is really nice most of the time,” Peters says.
“She is old, she is allowed to be mean. Kind of reminds me of Marian,” I tell him, and he nods.
“Do you miss her, she worked at the castle for years?” he asks.
“Yes, she was a good woman,” I tell him, and he nods.
“What now?” he asks.
“The ruins, I want to hold a feast for the city, do you think the people would come?” I ask.
“I think so, most people’s views of you have changed and they like Elora,” he says. “When?”
“Next week the ruins should be done by then,” I tell him, and he nods.
“Can we see Elora, I want to meet this baby of yours?” he asks, and I sigh.
“If she will let me,” I tell him.
“What do you mean?” he asks as we finally hit the castle grounds.
“Doesn’t matter,” I tell him walking towards the castle doors.
“So how does it work, is it all your kid or just one of you?” Peter asks, intrigued by our relationship and its dynamics.
“All, we have marked her so even if only one of us got her pregnant, the child would still carry all our DNA, because our DNA is in hers.”
“So does that make her immortal like you?” he asks.
“Yes, kind of. I am immortal but I can still die.”
“How?”
“Why, you planning on knocking me off?” I ask, my lips turning up.
“No, just find it interesting.”
“Well Elora can kill us if she really wanted to, in turn it could kill her because we are mated. Elora is immortal because she is ours. Normally Fae just live long lives, so if we hadn’t marked her she would be like an ordinary Fae.”
“So, she is basically immortal then?” I nod.
“What about your son?”
“Same deal. He is a Dragon that I can sense, mine and Matitus’s DNA has overridden Dragus’s Werewolf DNA so he should be able to shift. I think he may have Fae magic too. His scent is different though, I can tell he will be Dragon still his eyes are hers,” I tell him as we walk down the corridor.
Victor walks down the stairs as we get to them. He pats me on the back. “Both are fine and healthy, the kid has a set of lungs on him though, have you picked any names yet, I forgot to ask her?”
“Not sure yet, whatever she decides I will be happy with,” I tell him, and he nods.
“She is awake. Your mates are with her and Abbie” he says, and I nod walking up the stairs. I stop at the door.
“Are you coming in?” Peter says, looking at me wondering what I am doing.